


Add fuel to the flames

by requiedream



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance, Thriller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 04:58:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17217440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/requiedream/pseuds/requiedream
Summary: Red. Red. Red. Red. Red.All she could see was red. All she could smell was iron. Every breath was full of it, suffocating. All she could think was that she was in the deepest pile of shit ever.





	1. Chapter 1

Red. Red. Red. Red. Red.

All she could see was red. All she could smell was iron. Every breath was full of it, suffocating. All she could think was that she was in the deepest pile of shit ever.

Nellie looked at her reflection in the cracked mirror of her miserable bath house. Splashes of crimson bloomed on her pale skin like rose petals. Light brown hair darkened by thick, wet blood stuck to her face, making her look bestial and inhuman. And her eyes: light green, gaze blank. She was physically present but her mind was somewhere else. Amongst the myriad of bad decisions that had brought her to this point, Nellie was sure of one thing - she would lose herself.

She turned her attention back to what was at her feet and in the bathtub. Bits and pieces of body were scattered all around the tiles. Blood, viscera, bone, and God only knew what else filled her bathtub. She began to realize what she had done. A loud noise filled the room. She had dropped her butcher's knife. A kind of weakness overtook her body and she crumpled to the floor. She began to shiver. It started in her chest, then quickly spread all over her little form, tremors of horror jolting her very being. She began to cry.

She had never cried so hard in all of her seventeen years of life. Until now she had always managed to see the bright side of her misfortunes. She'd never had an easy life, orphaned before she even had a chance to know her parents she had grown up like every other poor kid of the streets of Small Heath. She had been taken care of by a very sweet old lady called Mam. Mam had taught her how to read, write, and think of a world beyond Small Heath filling her head with hopes and dreams.

'You are going to be a bright woman Nellie. You will make something of your life. Trust me.',

Face pressed against the cold tiles, she remembered Mam's words. Yeah sure…

She rose slowly on to her knees and stared down at the floor. A small smile started to crack the corner of her mouth. This was so ironic. Her, Nellie Smith the bright and smiley girl of Small Heath on her knees in fresh and sticky pool of blood from a human body she had just cut into pieces. A cruel twist of fate. A giggle escaped her mouth. She began to laugh.

Her laugh eventually faded in her throat and only her raspy breath could be heard. What now? she thought.

She could ask for help but looking at the sea of blood surrounding her, this was definitely not going to be an option. Who in their right mind would help her? The worst part of this mess was that she hadn't even intended to do what she'd done. It had been an accident and then she'd panicked. How could she explain to anyone that in the heat of the moment she had panicked and decided that the best thing to do would be to cut the body into pieces? It was the dumbest excuse imaginable. No… she was all alone in this.

Gazing at the pile of flesh and torn garments around her, her green eyes locked in on a silver object. A thin and sharp tool. A razor blade. And near it, a cap. Tears escaped her eyes and, as she reached for the cap and held it against her heart, a wave of pure agony touched her body.

'I'm so sorry', she cried in anguish.

Nellie had signed her own death warrant today. She was not dead yet but she would be. It was a simple fact because everybody knew not to fuck with the Peaky Blinders. And she just killed one of them.

Finn.

Her boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Peaky Blinders only my OCs.  
> Special thanks to Out of Options for her amazing support and of course for her beta-reading.  
> I also post on fanfiction if you prefer reading on it my pseudo is the same.


	2. Chapter 2

The day was so surreal, Nellie thought, rising from her position on the floor. She reached the edge of the bathtub with an exhausted slowness and sat on it with a sigh. This was a nightmare. It was impossible that she would ever get away with it. What on earth had she done in a previous life to deserve this? Someone had probably wished her death.

'You did this to yourself', she said to herself tonelessly.

She put her face in her hands and began scratching at the soft skin in despair. She repeated the gesture more roughly and then began tearing at her hair viciously. She felt her heart pounding faster making her breath come hard. Letting herself die of anguish would be an easy solution. Going in to the dark without saying a single word, alone in Mam's little bath house. Nellie reflected on this thought for a while, gazing into space with an empty look in her eyes.

She had never imagined that her life would take this dramatic turn. She had had ambitions for her future. She had even started studying for a possible entrance to a day training college to become a teacher. Mam had always urged her to take every opportunity to better herself and she remembered the reproach in the older woman's voice when Nellie first told her that she had found a job in the automobile factory owned by the Shelbys.

'We didn't fight all these years so that you could waste your life doing dead-end repetitive work in a factory for pennies! You can do better Nellie.'

In the end they had reached a compromise. It had been agreed that she would work at the factory in order to put money aside to pay for college and at the same time she would begin to study for the entrance examination. This became her only aim - leaving Small Heath behind her once and for all and making a better life for herself elsewhere.

But at this very moment she felt that this dream was so far away; unreachable. She didn't see any future for herself. It was over. She hadn't had a very good start in life to begin with so perhaps it was always meant to be like this, she thought. Perhaps her real destiny had finally caught up with her despite her tricks to escape it. Mam's presence in her life had been a mistake. She didn't deserve her, she was an impostor.

The day she had met Mam was probably the luckiest of her life. She was around ten years old and on the verge of giving up on life. It was a particularly cold winter's day and she was sitting on the steps of the church, waiting for nothing in particular. She had long since lost the desire to beg for food or money. She was just waiting for something to happen. Maybe the intense cold would turn her into a gargoyle, she thought childishly. Perhaps this was where all the lost children of the streets went when they were missing. Or maybe if she closed her eyes she would wake up in a different world, a world that was far away from this one. A place of her own, where there would be no struggle, no pain, no begging; only freedom.

It was as she accepted the peaceful slumber of the deadly cold that Mam came to her life. Everything from that time was so blurred but she remembered warm palms on her cold cheeks, a comforting voice and then being carrying away from the street. And that was when her life had truly begun.

Mam was not just any woman, she was well known locally for being a mother to many of the poorest children of Small Heath. Her late husband and her could not have children of their own so they had begun to care for local waifs and strays. By the time she adopted Nellie, the other children were all grown up. Nellie was her last. Mam had a very peculiar and romantic history and she was still thought of as an outsider even after all the years in the city. She had come from a quite modest though wealthy family, and, although she was not a member of the gentry, by local standards she had been a lady. And she had come to the slums of Small Heath for love. Her story was well known in area: a young and rich woman leaving her fancy life for one of labour and hardness. But she was not burdened by it; she loved her husband more than her own life. She hadn't cared that she would be living in a poverty and filth as long as she was with him. Was this what a kindred spirit was, Nellie wondered when she listened with fascination to Mam's story.

The only remaining vestiges of the old woman's past had been her collection of jewels and she had eventually sold most of them to buy a small cottage along the canal with one little caprice, a bath house in their backyard so that she didn't have to use the public baths or a tin bath in front of the fire.

The sudden bark of a dog coming through the window pulled Nellie out of her daydream. What time was it, she wondered. She couldn't even remember what day it was or how long she had been in the damn bath house. It seemed to have been ages but at the same time just couple of minutes. Another bark followed by little whimpers and shouting startled her and she almost lost her balance and slipped into the bathtub. She recognised her neighbour's voice. By the sound of his shouts he was probably drunk as usual. She looked quickly towards the window, small rays of sunshine pierced through the faded embroidered curtains. They had been made years ago by Mam who loved all kinds of stitching and embroidery. Thinking about Mam made her wonder what would happen to the old woman if Nellie disappeared. Running away would be a cowardly act she though and it would not be fair to leave her alone after all she had done for her. Especially not with the bath house in this state! Driving away her negative thoughts with a shake of her head, she stood up and crossed her arms pondering, her next move.

'What should I do?' She mumbled to herself.

She had to find a solution and quickly. She could continue to cry her eyes out and whine about her misfortunes but becoming a fountain of tears would not transform her current misery into a beautiful rainbow of joy. The first logical thing to do was to clean up the bath house and herself before disposing of the body parts. Unfortunately the house was not equipped with pipped water and she would therefore have to use the little pump at the back of the house.

I can't go outside like this though, she though. It would be too risky even for just a few minutes. If anyone saw her covered in blood the game would be up. Anxiety ran through her again and she started picking at her fingernails in agitation.

'The washbowl!' She exclaimed. She hastened out of the bath house heading through the door to the kitchen and quickly made her way up to her bedroom. She knew that there would be the remains of a pitcher of water on the washstand.

She quickly found the jug. It did not contain a large amount of water but it would be enough if she played it smart. If she saved the water for her face and hands she could cover the rest of her body with a clean outfit and hide her hair under a shawl.

Nellie placed the bowl on the floor and quickly took off her bloody clothes. She bundled them up and hid them under her bed – she would deal with them later. Completely naked she knelt on the wooded floor in front of the bowl and start washing her face. Cupping the precious liquid in her hands, she wondered how this scene would appear to an outsider; a young girl naked in front of a bowl of water which turned crimson at her touch. Quite a biblical image, she scoffed.

I'm damned no matter what, she admitted bitterly. She felt uneasy in this position, vulnerable, like a frail and weak creature, but she continued her washing or her 'ablutions' if she wanted to continue with her pathetic biblical imagery. She finished by drying her skin with a small handkerchief. That complete she finally rose from her kneeling position and went to her wardrobe. She picked a very plain and long dark modest dress. She usually wore it to go to church with Mam so it felt a bit wrong to use it. But Nellie was not a religious person even if Mam had tried to raise her to be one. For a variety of reason it had never touched her. Before Mam pulled her off of the streets when she was just a kid, she had experienced the so called charity of religious people. They went out into the world proclaiming their love for God and their generous hearts by feeding the poor children of the street.

But that was just for show she remembered bitterly. After the meal they just left you to your misery. And that wasn't the worst of it. She vividly recalled one particular priest and how uncomfortable she had felt around him. He had the habit of always patting her head and stroking her shoulders with his big hands when he was around her. Day by day his touches had become lower and lower on her body and she had finally stopped going for those 'free' meals. She had preferred to starve for a whole week rather than see him. She had been seven years old but not stupid. She had heard stories from other boys and girls about getting too close to those kinds of men. At that time she didn't really know what happened to them but she was sure that it was bad. To this day each time she passed through the door of a church with Mam she felt a bitter taste on her tongue. But even if the time spent in church was the most mind-numbing moments of her life and she was reluctant to go at all she was grateful for it because it was in church that she had first met Finn.

Pulling her hair back into a low bun, she grabbed her burgundy shawl and wrapped it tightly around her blood slicked locks. She then checked her appearance in the mirror of her small vanity unit to make sure that she was presentable if she happened to bump into someone on the way to the pump. She was passable from a distance, she thought, but up close you could nevertheless distinguish redness on her face. Thin swelling red gouges were all over her forehead and cheeks from where she had clawed at herself during her minor breakdown. And as for her puffy eyes…

I look awful, she sighed but it will have to do for now. She had to get going with her plans. Fortunately for her Mam was away in London to visiting a friend which meant that she had time to clean up. Her mind was still in shock over what had happened. Staring at her reflection in the mirror it was as if she was looking at a stranger. She felt numb. Perhaps she had already cried so much and gone so far that her survival instinct had taken over. Good for me, she considered, she had to take advantage of her psyche shutting down to finish the dirty work.

She completed her outfit with a pair of dark tights, put on her old leather button strap heels and then made her way downstairs. Arriving in the parlour she nearly stepped on a small clot of blood near the fireplace. The curtains were closed and the smell of death filled her nose. She had to suppress the urge to vomit on the carpet.

'Fuck', she cursed. She quickly opened the window and put her head out of the hellish room. Her head still outdoors she looked back at the scene in the living room. It looked like a bad crime scene from a crappy detective book, she thought. Sherlock Holmes would have solved the crime in no time. There was a round table in the center of the room, in front of the fireplace, a chair was tipped on its side on the floor next to the blood clot and on the ground by the leg of the chair leg there was a gun. On the table were scattered a number of open books, two cups which had, on the evidence of the empty bottle of whisky near them, not been used for tea, and some discarded cigarettes. She could distinguish a silhouette on the carpet, dark lines forming the shape of a body, almost like the white chalk outline used by the police. But instead of white chalk it was the result of a human body decaying.

Flashbacks of the tragic events that had taken place in this room passed through Nellie's mind. Laughter and fragments of conversations echoed in her brain. And then there had been a shot. A vivid gun shot and a deadly silence followed by a loud knock at the front door. After that Nellie remembered crawling over to the body and curling herself into a protective ball next to it, crying her eyes out. She had been paralyzed from shock and floored by fear and anguish. She stayed in this position for days until thirst and the stench from the rotting corpse had forced her out of her lethargy. She couldn't remember the thought process that had led to her decision to cut up the body but it was done now and she had to pick up the mess resulting from her choice.

Nellie put the chair back into its place and took the revolver in her hand; it was Finn's. She quickly placed it in the drawer of the dresser and went out to the backyard. It was still early in the morning she deduced from the chilled air and the crowing of their rooster. Owning one of the few remaining cottages in Small Heath made it possible for Mam to have a small garden with chickens and even a pig.

She paused for a moment and took a long deep breath to get some fresh air into her lungs – well as fresh as the air in Birmingham ever got. Then she fixed her gaze on the old pump which was at the far end of the garden in the opposite corner to the outside loo. Most of the houses of Small Heath were not equipped with a functional system of piped water at best they usually shared a communal pump. She was therefore quite lucky to have access to a private water supply. She spotted the large tub they used for washing clothes and two knee-high wooden water pails. She would have to do a lot of back and forth trips from the pump to the bath house. It was not a long distance, but it would still put her at risk of discovery. Unfortunately she didn't have any other option.

'Well let's get started', she said, rolling her sleeves up to her elbows.

She began by drawing water and taking it to the door of the bath house. The iron scent of blood still filled the air so she opened the window and then poured the water into the bathtub. The blood started to wash down the plughole but the guts and the other big parts were blocking it. Nellie considered the possible methods she could use to get rid of them; fire or earth were the obvious choices. Burning them in the backyard was probably the most efficient solution but it was surely not the most discreet. Burial it was then. She went back into the yard for the wash tub and then proceeded to place every piece of viscera into it, then placed it in one of the corner of the bath. She would deal with the cleaning first.

She then went on to auto-pilot, walking back and forth between the pump and the bathroom, scrubbing the bathtub and the tiles with water and vinegar. She also made a baking soda mixture with hot water to get through the reluctant stains. Her hands were on fire due to the acidity of vinegar and the alkaline of the baking soda but that was worth it. After two long hours she finished the cleaning, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the front of her dress. She sighed loudly. Unable to fight her fatigue anymore, she slid down the wall of the bathroom, facing towards the bathtub and the window. The room was immaculate. She had made sure to rub down every inch of the tiles and even the walls. The only evidence of what had happened was the big pile of body parts in the bath. She hadn't found a definitive solution for them yet. There was one option, it was madness and she could easily be caught if she made even a single mistake, but it was the most practical possibility.

The air was less filled with odour of blood now but there was still a lingering scent of rotting meat. She stood up with difficulty and carefully went to Mam's bedroom; she remembered that the older woman always keep some sheets of Papier d'Arménie in her wardrobe, using it as a freshener for her clothes. Opening the wardrobe, she was welcomed by a strong smell of benzoin and got another whiff of it while digging through the dresses and vests. She found three sheets of paper and went downstairs and into the kitchen.

She folded a few strips of the scented paper and lit them one by one. She placed one sheet in the sink, put the second in the fireplace and then finally placed the third one on the windowsill of the bath house.

Checking for inquisitive neighbours, she then took the cloth covered bucket filled with organs out in to the garden and placed it near the back fence. She grabbed the shovel which was against the wooden wall of the toilet and was about to dig her first hole when a seedy idea formed in her mind. She looked at her basin and at the pig in its little enclave along the wooden fence. What if…? The thought hung in her head. As if she was in a trance she slowly grabbed what looked like a piece of liver and placed it leisurely where the pig was searching the ground with its snout. At first it snuffled at it suspiciously making with small oinking sounds and then abruptly in a split second it gulped it down. Nellie's hands started shaking and she couldn't stop an irrepressible shiver of fear and disgust rattling through her body. This is the safest way, she thought, no evidence.

'No evidence', she murmured shakily. She couldn't believe what was she was about to do. I'm a monster, she thought. A fucking monster.

Her heart in her throat she began to feed the organs to the pig one by one. It ate them quickly, leaving only a bloody smudge around its lips. She was about to deposit the last organ when she recognized the very distinctive shape - the heart. She suppressed a shiver and took a deep breath before giving it to the animal. What is done is done, she told herself. You can't undo what's been done.

Nellie looked at her hands. Red hands. She was hypnotized by them and she was so engrossed in her thoughts she didn't hear the calling of her friend until it was too late.

'Oh there you are! I can't believe you were ignoring me for a pig!' The cheerful and mock disappointed voice of her friend Amelia echoed through her head like a bad dream. Nellie's breathing became louder and harder as she slowly turned her head towards the other side of the backyard. Her big green eyes watching in horror as her friend waved at her jovially. She cursed silently, shutting her eyes tight and counting to ten in order to calm herself before opening them again and gazing back at her friend. This day was definitely proving to be endless she thought bitterly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very big thank you to Out of Options for her more than amazing correction of this chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little trigger warning for this chapter, please be aware that a particular upsetting short scene will take place, it's about prejudice that people could have at that time against person with Down's syndrome.

Amelia was like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy morning. She popped her head over the fence and wave jovially at Nellie, entirely unaware of what she had just interrupted. Nellie always joked that her friend was from a kind of fairyland where people were happy and smiley night and day. Her whole being emanated a bright and vivid desire for life which was a great contrast with the majority of people in Small Heath. Even her appearance was something totally out of the ordinary. Amelia dreamed of the stage, of the film set and of being on the cover of Photoplay Magazine like the great stars of Hollywood. She always dyed her hair and wore it in a Dutch bob cut mimicking her idol Colleen Moore, and she followed her star's make up tutorial religiously even with the finishing touch of a noir red lipstick. She was also always wearing the most fashionable clothes in her everyday life. Nellie teased her that it was a bit comical particularly when, as they were walking on the Garrison Lane where people were not used to such extravagance. Men pointed at Amelia and cat called at her shamelessly. But she just kept her head high, tightened her hold on Nellie's arm, and proudly explained to her in her usual confident tone.

'Honey, how many time do I have to remind you that a talent scout could be hiding somewhere near here at this very moment?' She posed gracefully with her fingers under her chin as if she was being photographed for a magazine and then smiled mischievously at her friend.

Nellie paused for a moment and looked at her not sure if she was being serious or not. 'You joking, right? Here?' She emphasized the absurdity of her statement by gesturing at their surroundings pointing jokingly at a stray dog, the filthy ground, and at a bunch of drunken men who had been drinking illegal pints at Garrison on their way to work.

Amelia just shrugged her shoulders elegantly and looked directly at her 'Well, you never know', she replied in a-matter-of-fact voice. She pulled Nellie by the elbow and urged her to move quicker. 'Come on, we can't be late for Mister Shelby'. She stressed the Mister and playfully elbowed Nellie. They laughed, remembering how Thomas Shelby had introduced himself on their first day of work. He was a sight to see, perching on the long balcony surrounding the assembling line department, his gravelly voice filling the space. He talked to the women below him with solemnity and severity, as if he was addressing soldiers on the parade ground. It was there that she had first met Amelia, one year ago. Nellie was quietly listening to her new boss's speech, trying to not look bored, when she caught her friend-to-be's mischievous smile. Amelia discreetly nodded her head towards Mr Shelby and mimicked the actions of a serious soldier, even going so far as to puff her chest up. A giggle almost escaped Nellie's mouth at Amelia's play acting and she had to redirect her attention to her shoes so as not to burst out laughing. She didn't even want to imagine what would have happened if she had not held back. A dead silence probably, followed by a look from Shelby's piercing blue gaze and the feeling of being a piece of dirt.

Nellie would always have a welcome in her life for the ever cheerful Amelia. After all it was thanks to her enthusiastic personality that Nellie had kept on going in the factory. Without her chatty and overly positive attitude Nellie would had given up far earlier. Even if being independent a man was something to be grateful for, work at the factory was still exhausting. After the first day she couldn't walk properly, having sore muscle in her legs, arms and back. It was as she had aged into an old lady in a dozen hours. Her admiration for the women who had done factory work during the Great War doubled and went even further for the women who succeeded at keeping their job after the War despite competition from their returning menfolk.

But at this very moment, kneeling on the ground next to the pig she had just feed with human organs, she just couldn't believe her bad fortune at having such an inquisitive friend. Seeing her friend smile was not something she wanted. The only thing she wanted was the ability to turn back time so that she could correct what had gone wrong.

Amelia kept waving at her jovially so Nellie did the only thing she could do in that situation - smile. She plastered her face with her most surprised but pleased smile and nodded at her friend, rising slowly from where she knelt and quickly hiding her bloody hands. 'Just keep faking calmness until you believe it', she whispered to herself as she tried to act as naturally as possible.

'Well, why don't you come over and greet your friend?' Amelia raised her eyebrows but didn't give her friend a chance to respond. Instead she continued in an excited voice. 'Did you hear what happened?' Nellie just stood there not knowing if she should say something or just let her friend continue. She was suspicious of her high-pitched voice, It usually meant only one thing with Amelia - gossip. It was one of the few of her personality traits that Nellie really didn't appreciate. Amelia was always at the front of the queue when it came to gossiping - she adored it. Talking about people and judging them behind their backs, evaluating their personal choices as if her opinions outweighed theirs. You can't like everything about a friend Nellie thought. There is always something that just doesn't match up with your own views on life. They had already argued about Amelia's tendency to gossip and had even been on bad terms for a whole week because of a particular nasty episode with one of their co-worker's children.

It had been the end of their shift and, as usual, they were making their way to the exit chatting about their day and what they would do at the week-end. As they reached the door, a little girl appeared in front of them. The girl was about to touch Amelia's arm lightly when the woman abruptly slapped at the girl's wrist making her jump in shock. Nellie knew the girl, everyone did. Although other people referred to her as stupid or mentally retarded Nellie preferred to think of her as an innocent. She was a really sweet girl, Nellie reflected, always smiling with her unusual slanted blue eyes, wide round face, and little nose.

The girl eyes started watering and a hurt expression changed her playful face into a sobbing one. Nellie wanted to comfort her but Amelia just grabbed her roughly by her hand and drew her towards the exit.

'Don't touch her, you silly girl! You never know whether that sort of thing is contagious or not. Her mother should keep her away from normal people' She acted as if she saved Nellie from encountering something horrible. Nellie stopped dead in her tracks and tore her hand out of her friend's grasp.

'Sometimes I wonder whether it's you that should be kept away from normal people!' Nellie had said in disgust and stalked off leaving a shocked Amelia behind her. After that she refused to talk to Amelia again until she had apologized to the girl and her mother. She was a forgiving girl and she was generally accepting of her friend's flaws but she had her limits.

Her judgemental and gossipy nature was why Nellie had never shared personal information with her including the fact that she was dating the youngest of the Shelby clan. She also had to keep it from Mam. The old woman was not fond of the Shelbys. She didn't really voice it but Nellie could deduce from from her actions. After all, hadn't she always been told that actions spoke louder than words?

She first saw it at the church, the day she had been confirmed with the other grown kids. It was the end of the ceremony. She was wearing a long white dress down her ankles and was waiting in line for the communion. After the priest put the Host onto her palm, she had tripped on hem of her dress and crushed the communion wafer with her hand. All this ceremony was already embarrassing for her so making a fool of herself in front of everyone was too much to cope with. She stood up quickly and made her way back to Mam, her eyes glued to her shiny black shoes and her cheeks coloured a vibrant crimson. She was small so passing through the crowd was a bit of an obstacle. She couldn't find her way out and when she saw an opening beyond all the dark silhouettes she headed for it. Then she felt a tug on her sleeve. It was a young boy a little under her age with a too big cap in his hand. She questioned him with a quirk of one of her eyebrows and he simply extended his arm in front of her, palm open. There rested his communion wafer, Nellie was a little taken aback by his action. She didn't even know this boy yet he was willingly sharing something with her, helping her with her embarrassment. She didn't know it then but his kindness would be the catalyst for their relationship. It was in his sweet, shy but courageous personality that Nellie found her peace.

She took the wafer and smiled at him but he just looked in the other direction, the tips of his ears becoming red. She giggled into her hand, ate the Host, and excitedly put her thumbs up with a big smile. He cracked a shy smile in return and she was happy for it. The moment was broken when she heard Mam calling for her in a tone of quiet reprimand. She felt Mam's hands on her shoulders and looked up to see a severe look on her face. Mam could be very gentle and motherly but she was strict most of the time. Strict but fair. But this time her severity was aimed at the boy rather than Nellie. She looked him up and down suspiciously searching him for signs that he was up to mischief. Nellie hadn't the time to question anything before she was dragged by the shoulder to the opening door. The bells were ringing to mark the end of the ceremony and people were slowly coming out of the church. She only managed to articulate a voicelessly thank you to the boy before losing sign of him. Their first encounter was brief and even if she hadn't know the little boy name, she had fondly cherished the memory.

'I can't wait to tell you!' Amelia was bouncing on her toes like a little girl, excited to tell her the latest gossip. She even started crossing the fence supporting her forearm on its edge.

'What are you doing?' Nellie blankly asked, panic rising in her voice. She couldn't let her friend get close to her, not in this state, bloody hands hidden behind her back. Amelia just rolled her eyes and started proclaiming dramatically.

'Isn't it obvious, milady? As her majesty won't open her gate for a poor wretched woman like me, I will have to climb the fortified wall in order to deliver my message.' She emphasised her melodramatic speech by putting the back of her hand to her forehead. Usually Nellie would go along with her friend's craziness and chuckle but she was not in the mood. She had always heartily encouraged her friend to pursue her dream of being an actress by being a spectator as she rehearsed before an audition but not in this moment. She faked a playful smile and nodded to her friend amiably.

'I'll let you in but, let me just clean myself up first, you wouldn't want to smell like smelly sludge, am I wrong?' She raised her eyebrows candidly pointed with her head to the pig in its enclave. The red smudge on its lips was already gone and it was sniffed her hands for more.

Amelia winced in disgust and turn back shouted to Nellie to not made her dawdle at the front door.

Her friend finally out of sight, Nellie quickly hid the bloody basin in the bath house and locked the door. She then drew some fresh water out of the pump and cleaned her hands and face. She patted her face dry with the front of her dress and the rushed to the parlour to tidy it up. Pulling the table over the black silhouette on the carpet, she hastily placed the tea cups, discarded cigarettes, and the empty bottle of whiskey into the kitchen sink, hiding them with a tea towel. Then she slowly made her way down the hallway, checking herself in the little mirror by the door just over the umbrella stand.

'Keep smiling, just keep smiling', she muttered trying to find comfort in the words she repeated like a mantra. Finally she opened the front door welcoming her friend in with a smile. Amelia kissed her right cheek as usual and passed by her to go in to the parlor, Nellie just followed her and they sat on the bench seat under the window leading to the backyard. Nellie loved the ambience that the decoration brought to the room. The walls were lined with floral wallpaper and brightened up with landscape paintings done by Mam's late husband. Books were scattered all around the room on little shelves hanging from the walls. Photos of all the different children who had passed though the home were placed on the long dresser which was against the wall adjacent to the kitchen. An upright piano stood near Mam's little secretaire where the older woman kept all her paperwork and correspondence.

'Did you burn some incense? It smells quite funny in here.' Amelia sniffed the air suspiciously, the action making her look like a little mouse. She was really a character, Nellie thought smiling fondly at her. Always acting like she was in the middle of one of her favourite silent movies. She always exaggerated her facial expressions which sometimes made her look like a cartoon character.

'Yes, you're right. I just read that it was good for the mood. Apparently it helps raise your spirits. You know, like in church'. She smiled wickedly at her friend, knowing perfectly well that she was gullible enough to swallow her explanation; after all she was the number one reader of women's magazines! Amelia didn't respond she just carried on with her gossip. She took off her scarf with one swift sweep of her hand and shot a conspiratorial look at her friend.

'Something's happened in the town' she continued pressing her hands to her cheeks excitedly. 'And everyone is talking about it.' Nellie just quirked her eyebrows waiting for her friend to continue, anticipating what was to come. She knew that she had been locked in the house for couple of days. Fortunately for her this had coincided with the strike at the factory so she hadn't been missed. She remembered it specifically because she had jumped at the chance to meet Finn secretly. Mam was away in London and the women's strike leaded by Jessie Eden was the perfect cover for them.

A couple of seconds passed and she had still not received any more information from Amelia. She looked up at her friend who was gazing at her intently, her brown upturned eyes scrutinising Nellie's face.

'What?' She pulled her face away from her friend gaze and was becoming impatient, she was tired and it was taking all her strength to just be sitting and chatting with her without breaking her character down. The only thing she wanted was to cry and hide in a little forgotten stump in a faraway forest but at the same time the slumber peace of an eternal sleep was appealing to her internal cries.

'Sweetheart are you okay? You don't seem well. And…' She gently ran her fingertips across her friend's forehead. 'What is that?' Her friend looked worried and that look of concern almost brought tears to Nellie's eyes but she got hold of her emotions and replied casually with a fake sigh 'I tried to bath Tibby but he wasn't very cooperative'. Tibby was her cat and he often vanished for days at a time before coming back with smelly fur and muddy paws. He was an independent cat but was fond of affection and cuddles much like Nellie, she secretly admitted. She had not been familiar with affection before entering Mam's home and even with the love that Mam had brought into her life, she was always awkward when people touched her to show their affections. She felt that something was wrong with her. Being repulsed by, and rejecting, any form of human affection was certainly not normal. Instead she had loved to cuddle with Tibby, he was so soft and warm and his purring always comforted her when she was feeling down. Finn had healed her of this fear. He was so loving and patient with her that she accepted his warms with open arms.

Amelia eyed her one last time before changing the subject quickly, acting like nothing happened. She always did that, changing her temper in a snap of her fingers - especially when she touched on something negative. She avoided negative things like the plague preferring to act as it had never happened or simply smiling with embarrassment and nervously laughing at a situation she couldn't controlled.

'Well…', she smoothed down her beige dress, 'there is a rumor in town.' She continued with a tremulous voice. 'Someone is missing and you'll never guess who!' She playfully tapped her friend's arm.

Nellie had felt her lungs empty of the precious vital air the moment she heard the word 'missing'. She swallowed with difficultly and murmured in a little voice. 'Who?'

'The youngest of the Shelby brothers…' Amelia paused to allow the sense of anticipation to rise but Nellie already knew the answer. She knew it all too well.

'…Finn!' Amelia proudly stated as it was something to be delighted about. Nellie's hands became sweaty and suddenly she felt that the temperature of the room was too high for her sanity. She stood up from where she had been sitting and moved to the chair by the secretaire wanting to create as much distance as she could between her and her friend. She didn't feel well, in fact she felt horrible. A tingling sensation appeared in her fingertips and toes and a feeling of floating made her heart pound strangely. I'm going to faint, she thought beginning to panic. I'm going to faint and they will find the body parts in the bathtub and I'm going to be dead and buried before I even know it. She couldn't stop repeating those words in her head while trying to keep her composure. Amelia kept on talking.

'… and they've said that they are going to search every single house in the area. Can you believe it? The audacity of these people', she scoffed crossing her arms on her chest.

Nellie hadn't followed everything that Amelia had said but she was practically sure that the 'they' meant the Shelbys.

'You know what they searching for exactly?' Nellie awkwardly asked changing her sitting position and slowly letting herself slide back against the wall near the chimney where Tibby's little couch was placed.

'How should I know?' She shrugged her shoulder and stood up from her position on the bench, clearly upset by the situation. She made her way to Nellie who was smiling nervously at her from across the room.

'Honey, are you sure you're okay? You're pale as hell.' Amelia squatted down in front of her friend and tilted her head to the side, a worried expression on her face.

'I'm fine, just tired', Nellie half-lied. 'I just need a little rest, I studied all night for my next exam, that's all.' She smiled and then continued in a breathy voice 'And… at what time do you think that they will come? You know… to invade our privacy?' She finished with a mocking raise of her eyebrows, joking always worked on her friend. With a little luck it would stop her worrying about her.

'They didn't really say but just told us that we had to be at home by 4pm.' Amelia raised her eyes to the sky and rose from her crouched position.

'Well, I need to go. I promised George that I'd help him at the grocery shop.' She elegantly replaced her scarf around her shoulders and then checked her appearance in the large mirror hanging above the fireplace.

'What a woman has to do for love', she added with an exasperated sigh, before smiling mischievously down at her friend.

What indeed? Nellie wondered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual a very big thank you for Out of Options for the correction of this chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

The house was so silent and still after Amelia's departure. As always she came and went like a breath of fresh air leaving Nellie alone with her thoughts. She sat frozen on Tibby's little couch and meditated on Amelia's words. So the Shelbys were coming… and that made everything more real. Until the unfortunate appearance of Amelia in the backyard, the entirety of what Nellie had done was blurred by a spectre of absurdity. Perhaps she was sleeping and eventually she would wake up and find that it had all been a bad dream. If only…

The fact that in couple of hours Thomas Shelby would probably be walking around this very room, searching for any evidence that could relate to Finn, was scary. Breathing the same air as his little brother had, sitting where he smoked his last cigarette, standing on the spot where he took his last breath. It was disturbing. The thought of it made Nellie feel sick.

She was terrorized by the knowledge of what could happen if she inadvertently left a clue as to what had happened. She had heard stories of people losing their minds from rage. That overwhelming feeling that you experienced when you came face to face with the killer of someone you deeply loved must be something overwhelming. All reason would be shut up somewhere behind the fog of hatred and fury. It would definitely be the end of her if she became the focus of such a murderous rage.

Nellie shook her head, she had to remain focused if she wanted to stay alive. There were more important things to do before she could obsess over her own death, she reminded herself. It was crucial that she disposed of the rest of the body before they arrived. It was today or never, she told herself resolutely. She had an idea of how but it was insane and she couldn't stop the dreadful feeling that it would end very badly. Despite that she knew that she hadn't got any other option.

She closed her eyes and sighed. The back of her head resting against the wall, she tried to stabilize her heart beat by mimicking the rhythmic sound of the wall clock. Tick, tock, tick, tock, inhale, tick, tock, tick, tock, exhale, she calmly instructed herself. But her moment of peace was soon interrupted by the strident sound of the candlestick telephone which was resting on the secretaire. Her eyes snapped open and her green eyes rested on the object. Who could it be, she wondered. She had never really had the occasion to give the number to anyone. It was mostly Mam who used it. Having a telephone was a great help when you had your family scattered all around England. It was certainly quicker and more convenient than writing a letter or sending a telegraph.

Abruptly the telephone ceased to ring. She was about to reclose her eyes when it started again. She rose slowly from her position and moved closer to the secretaire. She sat on the edge of it, a foot swinging in the air, and stared at her favourite landscape painting on the wall, allowing the sound of the ringing telephone to disappear. The picture was of a street in Small Heath. The scenery was dark and gloomy but what struck her most was the sunset hiding behind the grayish sky. The first time she saw it, she had interpreted it as a little ray of hope shining through life's ordeals. But after all that happened she now viewed it as more as a mockery. Hope was as a slow death of the soul, she thought bitterly. She hated it.

The ringing carried on relentlessly so Nellie reluctantly and apprehensively placed the receiver against her right ear and held the speaker near to her mouth.

'Nellie Smith speaking', she said in a small voice. She was instantly greeted by the reproachful voice of Mam.

'Is it polite to make me wait, young lady? And don't tell me you didn't hear the ringing the first time.' Nellie could almost picture Mam's scolding face and oddly it brought her some comfort, a sense of reality.

'I'm sorry, I was out in the backyard feeding the chickens', she answered apologetically. Lying was becoming dangerously second nature to her she realised with shame.

She heard Mam sigh in response. Then the old woman informed her of quite a fortunate change in her plans.

'I wanted to let you know you that I will be staying with Edith for a little longer. Unfortunately, I've sprained my ankle.'

Nellie jumped on the opportunity. After expressing her sorry at the turn of events she had quickly added 'Can I come to visit you? I have to meet Bessie anyway.'

Bessie was one of the friends she had made on the campus of Bedford College in London. She came from America and her family had moved to the UK just a couple of months before. They had got into the habit studying together in the university's library for the entrance examination.

'Don't you have to go to work in Mister Shelby's factory?', Mam asked.

'It's still closed. The strike will last a little longer so I'm free,' Nellie responded without missing a beat.

'In that case I don't see any problem. And could you be so kind and bring me our tea? I can't bear another day of Edith's cheap blend.' she said in an undertone.

Nellie smiled a little. Edith was a very peculiar old lady, a little childlike in Nellie's opinion. And she couldn't make a drinkable cup of tea for all the world - although her blackberry and apple crumble was to die for.

They talked a little bit more about which train she should take and then Nellie bid her goodbye. She placed the telephone back on the secretaire and looked up at the wall clock. It was still early in the morning and she had to catch the earliest train she could if she wanted to avoid the inspection. If she was not mistaken the travel time between Birmingham and London was approximately two hours, and she had to get hurry given the situation with the body.

Nellie went to her bedroom and picked up the big chestnut grain leather suitcase from her wardrobe and then collected a smaller one from Mam's bedroom. She took off her bed sheets and took them with her too. She placed everything at the bottom of the stairs and went into the kitchen. She didn't know that much about the conservation of meat, but she was certain that salt was involved. She had watched Mam using it on the chickens she had just killed and drawn. She remembered having goose bumps when watching the process and being a little angry at Mam for killing one of the chickens she had grown fond of. She also knew that Mam was intending to do the same to the pig when the slaughterer came in the autumn and she had already started laying down huge quantities of salt. If only she had known that she would end up doing the exact same thing to someone she loved deeply. One of life's cruel ironies, she thought.

She quickly found three large sacks of coarse salt and placed them near the suitcases. She had almost everything she need, she concluded looking at the objects arrayed before her. But something was missing. Something that was usually required achieving the greatest things in life. Something that every heroe possessed - courage. Courage to execute the plan that she had devised. Assuming that placing the pieces of your dead boyfriend in a suitcase could be qualified as courageous, she thought to herself bitterly.

The clock chime indicated that it was nine o'clock; it was time. She gave herself an hour, one hour to clean the house of any evidence, one hour to prepare herself to face the world.

'Let's go', she said out loud, trying to motivate herself. She looked outside to see if the way was clear and opened the door. The sky was still clouded, and a brisk gust of cold air made her shiver as if it presaged bad things around the corner; the beginning of a storm. You can still stop Nellie, she told herself, nothing is written yet. It would be so simple to just leave everything behind her and vanish in order to start a new life somewhere far from her demons. But to become what exactly? A wanderer or rather a criminal on the run? They would catch her and the fear of dying would be joined by the shame to have flee like a pathetic coward. No, she was too deep into this. She had to see it through.

She sighed and feeling a lump in her throat brought about by grief, made a number of quick rips back and forth between the parlor and the bath house to put everything in place. Finally she closed the door behind her. Her back resting on it she took a deep breath and looked at the bathtub. What happens in this room will stay in this room; no one would never know what you did. Just finish it and tomorrow will be a new day, she told herself.

'Tomorrow will be a new day', she repeated continuously while placing the two suit cases down open wide in front of the bath tub. She tore up the sheet in a number of pieces with the aid of the butcher's knives which she had hidden under the bathtub and laid each of them inside the luggage. Then the moment she was most fearful of came. She moved slowly to the edge of the bathtub and looked at what was in it. She retched when she saw the dead eyes of Finn looking back at her. She took a step back and tears started dropping from her eyes.

'I can't, I can't, I can't', she cried in a quavering voice, muffling her sobbing with her right hand. You have to!, She thought, angrily. Nellie could feel her body overheating dangerously. She wanted to sink in cold water that would wash away all her sadness. But she couldn't, not now, she felt to many emotions all at once.

She slid to her knees and placed her elbows on the edge of the bathtub. With tears running down her face, she took Finn's head in her hands. The feel of his hair under her palms made her cried even harder; it was sick. She was sick for doing this. Without looking at it she placed it on the sheet of one of the suitcases. Her whole body was shaking and her heart was pounding in her ears. She took a couple of deep breaths and continued with her macabre task. Each one of the body parts was carefully placed in one of the two suitcases. She had difficulty with the upper body, it was heavy and difficult to handle and she felt drops of sweat dropping on the back of her neck from the effort to lifting it. Fortunately, the suitcase was large so she had plenty of room for it.

Rising from her knees, she took one of the jars of salt and started to sprinkle it over the body parts. She quickly used all three of the pots and then knotted the edges of the two pieces of sheet to secure the two packages. Finally she closed the suitcases with a sigh and, with a little difficulty, slid them along the floor to the door.

She felt nauseous and weak but at least the hardest part was done, she could finally take care of the house. She went in the backyard and went through the same process as she had earlier. Going back and forth between the well and the bath house to clean it a second time. Heading to the parlor, she scrubbed the carpet where the stain of dry blood had stained the fabric with the spectre of death. It cleaned up quite easily but it needed to dry, Nellie kept her fingers crossed that the heat that was coming from the day would help this process.

She cleaned the dirty tea cups in the kitchen sink and passed a damp rag over the table in the parlour to get rid of any trace of cigarette ash. She then went to her bedroom and retrieved her bloody dress from under the bed and examined it. It was one of her favorite dress, the colour was a bright blue with a pattern of white flowers on the front that Mam embroidered for her. But now it was stained with blood. She didn't think that she would ever get it out and even if she did, she never want to wear it ever again. She took it to the parlour and spread it on the table then went to the kitchen to fetch the empty bottle of whiskey to place it on the dress. She opened the drawer of the dresser carefully and removed the gun from it. Nellie paused for a minute noticing the weight of it on her hand, remembering the same feeling when Finn had placed it on her palm that fatal night. She recalled his trusting blue eyes on hers. Everything went wrong after that moment.

She placed it too on the dress and rolled the fabric on itself to make a little package. She would have to get rid of it somehow. She took the roll of cloth with her into her bedroom and placed it on her bed, then turned to check her appearance in the mirror of her vanity. She looked as awful as before and the red from her bloody lock was slowly staining her forehead.

She had to take a bath before going out. Then, if she ran into someone, she would at least be a little presentable. Resolutely she took her necessities for a bath from her wardrobe and headed off in the direction of the bath house. She poured water from the well into the tub and quickly took her shawl and her clothes off. She slid slowly into the water. It was freezing but she didn't mind. She need the cold to numb her body. She rested her neck on the edge of the tub and closed her eyes. She sighed, she was exhausted. Every inch of her body was painful, and she was already imagining how difficult it would be to carry the suitcases to London. At least she would have the train. The challenging part would be getting them from her home to the train station and finally to her compartment. After that everything would be all right provided what she had planned for the luggage went as she planned.

She was about to slide her head underwater when she heard a soft mewing sound coming from outside the window. It was Tibby, her little orange ball of fur. As usual after wandering through the streets for a couple of days his paws were browned by mud. He meowed a second time and curled into a little fluffy ball on the windowsill. And then he slept. She hadn't lied to Amelia when she told her that Tibby scratched her when she wanted to bath him. He had already in the past. Tibby was scared of water like the majority of cats but for him it was a visceral fear. It came from a tragic event that took place couple of days after his birth. Nellie had been there when it happened. She recalled the day vividly because it was the second time Finn had helped her. And this time he had saved her life.

She was fourteen years old and was reading Peter and Wendy at the backyard, taking some notes for the details summary that Mam asked from her. The old woman decided that it will be easier to homeschool her and Nellie was relieved for that. She had refused to go to school when Mam first explained to her that it was a necessity. They had fought a little before Nellie burst into tears and told her how kids at Sunday school had made fun of her when the priest asked her to read a verse in front of everyone and she couldn't. After this incident the thought of being surrounding by other kids made her anxious and she slowly became a loner. Making friends was harder than on the street. Everyone was so judgmental in the real world.

It was a cloudy autumn day, the air was chilly but she had brought a thick plaid from her bedroom and a cup of hot tea to keep her warm. All wrapped up and with the tea inside her she felt cosy, and the smell of the apple pie that Mam had cooked made her smile with comfort. They had guests today. Mary, one of the kids that Mam had taken care when she was just a little girl, was pregnant with her second child and they had decided to celebrate the news with a little festive tea time. She also brought her first child Peter with her. He was six years old and quite shy. Now he was playing with the chickens.

Her reading was interrupted by little meowing sounds coming from the other side of the fence. It sounded like there was more than one kitten. She closed her book and gestured to Peter to come along with her, putting her index finger on her mouth to indicate that he should be as quiet as possible. She carefully placed the chair she had been sitting on near the fence and looked at the other side of the fence where there was their neighbor's house and behind was the canal. She didn't like him, he was always drunk and bothered a lot Mam with his obscene behavior toward her. There is a little story in the discrit telling that he was in a time deeply in love with Mam. But her constant rejections made him changed into bitterness and jealousy. After the event of this day Nellie hated him from the deepest of her heart.

After scanning the backyard whitch was more a dumping ground than a yard, Nellie finally found the little kittens. They were hiding in an overturned rubbish bin and were meowing loudly. Perhaps there were hungry, she thought, and hoped that their mother was not too far away. Instead of waiting for the mother she went to the kitchen and poured some milk into a little cup then took it out into the yard.

Peter was pointing at the neighbour's house with agitation, gesturing to Amelia to come quicker. She looked at him with curiosity before turning her attention at the other yard. The kittens were gone and the only thing she could see was the back of a man heading towards the canal. In his left hand he was carrying a black sack. A black sack that was moving oddly in all direction as if something was trapped in it. She made the connection quickly and her heart stopped for a second before beating out of her chest. She clumsily jumped on the other side of the yard with the help of the chair and raced in the direction of the man whom she recognised as their neighbour.

She finally reached him at the edge of the canal and grabbed at his right arm without thinking that he was a big grown man and she was just a small teenage girl.

'What are you doing? She demanded in angry voice.

'These littles bastards won't let me sleep, so I'm just going to teach them a lesson', he replied with a crooked smile.

'Don't! Give them to me. I'll take care of them', she pleaded. The meowing coming from the bag was unbearable to hear, they were crying for help. 'Please, they're just kittens', she told him firmly.

'If you want them so bad…' he put his left arm in the air and let out a small chuckle before throwing the bag in the canal '… go get them!' She could hear the excitement in his voice.

'You monster!' Nellie shouted, punching and kicking at him with rage. She heard the sound of the bag touching the water and her burst of violence stopped abruptly. Peter was now shouting desperately at her. He was obviously scared about what she was going to do next, but Nellie had only one thing in mind. Saving the kittens. Without thinking that it was only 10 degrees and that the water would be probably even colder she jumped in it and desperately made her way to the bag. She didn't even know how to swim, she just clumsily bated her arms and legs in this freezing water. When she finally reached where the bag was, it was too late, it had already sink. At this point she couldn't feel her body anymore and it was getting harder to stay at the surface due to her soaked dress and shoes.

I can't give up, perhaps they are still alive, she resolutely told herself. With her last burst of strength she inhaled deeply and dived into the darkness. Her eyes closed she tried to find the bag, her arms in front of her searching the cold water with her hands, her legs pulling her more deeply into the canal. After couple of seconds, she didn't have any more air to stay under the water so she tried to reach the surface. But having her eyes closed had made her disoriented and she didn't know anymore which was up and which was down. She started to panick and reflexively opened her mouth for air but this was a mistake. Instantly water filled her throat, making it even less likely that she could.

I don't want to die! She thought desperately. Please someone help me. She was still trying to reach the surface but the cold of the water made it hard for her to control her limbs and after a few more seconds, she no longer had any strength left to lift her arms. She stopped moving and felt herself sinking more deeply until she felt a hard surface at her back. She tried one last time to lift her arms but nothing happened, she just felt a little fabric on her right hand. She clung on it having nothing more as a repair and as at this state shouting in despair in her mind.

More seconds passed and she was slowly diving into unconsciousness when she felt a pair of arms lifting her from her lying position and pulling her rapidly out of the darkness. She felt the moment they reached surface when a breeze of air touched her forehead. She was safe, someone just saved her. Everything would be all right, she thought to herself.

They made to the edge of the canal and Nellie coughed loudly until her head started hurting. Her breathing was painful and she quickly started shivering. But she was not thinking about herself at that moment. She looked down and saw the bag that she had clung on to so desperately. She opened it but let out a small cry when she realized that there was only one kitten left. It was a little orange ball of fur which showed no signs of life.

'Come one, breath', she pleaded in a wobbly voice, shaking it a little. But nothing happened so she placed the kitten on her chest and big tears were starting to drop down her cheeks. She then finally noticed her savior. He too was soaked to the skin and was looking at her sadly, his cheeks red from the cold. She recognize him - it was the little boy who offered her his Host all those years before; she had never forgotten him. He was accompanied by a boy with light brown skin. He was one of Father Jeremiah's children. She had noticed him around but she didn't knew his name.

Nellie looked at the boy that had saves her. She was about to speak when Mam's loud voice cut across her.

'What is happing in here?', she demanded putting her hands on her hips. Nellie quickly rise with difficulty from her position and raced to her, putting in despair the kitten in Mam's hand.

'Please do something. It was drowned. I don't know what to do, please', she said roughly. Mary was behind Mam, little Peter was clinging on her legs and looking at the kitten apprehensively. The old lady quickly grasped the situation and started massaging the small creatures chest over its heart she even pushed air in its tiny lungs by breathing gently into its mouth and nose. Nellie also watched the resuscitation process anxiously, counting the seconds that passed with fear. After long moments of uncertainty, they all sighed with relief when they heard the kitten mew softly.

'Let's go home. This little thing needs some warmth. You too young lady', Mam told Nellie, a little reproach in her voice. The old woman then turned her attention to Bill, the neighbour who had both caused and witnessed everything, a twisted smile still plastered on his face.

'And you, if you don't want your balls hanging on your door for Christmas, had better wipe that stupid smile off your face before I tear it off with my own hands. If you ever hurt Nellie or anyone around here – man or beast - you can be sure that you'll never see the colour of your whiskey anymore', she told him coldly, 'Now get out of my sight', she concluded before heading back towards the house.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Nellie saw that the two boys were leaving.

'Polly said to be home before 5, quick', the darker one urged. The other was looking at Nellie who was slowly heading in their direction.

'I just wanted to say thank you', she told him timidly. 'Without you, I'd be…'

He didn't let her continue. Looking in the other direction, he casually said. 'It's nothing'. Nellie just smiled at him and held her hand out in front of her.

'By the way, I'm Nellie', she told him playfully, even though her voice sounded more like a broken violin than anything pleasant. He turned and smiled back at her, then placed his hand in hers without shaking it.

'Finn', he replied simply without breaking eye contact.

Remembering the first time she talked to him made her heart skip a beat and in her cold bath that was slowly becoming tinged red with his blood, Nellie could practically feel the ghostly warmth of his hand in hers.

She immersed her head in the cold water praying for it to wash her sadness away.

Maybe it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was corrected by Out of Options, I thank her very much for her edited as always.


End file.
